Tell Me No Lies
by cupcakemolotov
Summary: Caroline is avoiding a past that marks her deeper than her mutant abilities. Playboy, billionaire Klaus wants revenge for his murdered mother and brother. Sparks hotter than their combat leathers fly when they collide as they struggle to defend a city.
1. Chapter 1

So I blame/thank thisisfuckingnotcool on tumblr for this. I was asked to do a short prompt, which I did, but my muse was not satisfied by this. So this happened instead.

I hope everyone enjoys it. Thanks to everyone who helped me figure this out. Willowaus and the beta-team, you're the best!

* * *

Klaus almost missed her.

Moving down the alley, alarms blaring behind him, he kept his sense open to the faintest of movements. Someone had set off every gods-be-damned alarm and now any chance of looking for information to link Mikael to his web of organized crime was gone. For tonight. He'd shut off his ear bud, Kol's cursing becoming repetitive, and concentrated on getting clear.

He didn't need another reason for the Feds to threaten to involve themselves in the city. He didn't regret killing the dirty cops, but he'd had to listen to Rebekah complain for hours about attending funerals with Mikael. But honestly, it had been the utter disapproval that he'd felt from 'her', the mysterious pain in his ass that had annoyed him the most.

That it had bothered him at all was worrying.

They'd exchanged a few muffled words and he couldn't deny she was scrappy in a fight. But she was too soft, and there was something off that he couldn't place. Then, three weeks ago, she'd disappeared on him.

Having her show up to further complicate his life wasn't a nightly occurrence, but this was the longest stretch of time he'd gone without seeing her. Since their first interaction - her full body tackle, leaving him handcuffed to a drain pipe before she chased the man he'd been trying to kill - she'd been a infuriating whirlwind.

"You're bored."

Klaus shucked his heavy leather vest, arched both brows. "What?"

"Come on. We both know you're lingering a little longer to see if she makes an appearance and that you're disappointed that she hasn't." Kol grinned, arms crossing. "I still think she's going to be hideous under that mask."

"I'm staying out in the city because I'm hunting," Klaus denied with a growl. "This has nothing to do with her."

"Uh huh," Kol shrugged. "Then you'll be happy to know that none of her usual police friends have reported sightings either. Whoever you're little playmate is she's not coming out."

Damn him, he'd been right. He was worried. Klaus didn't like it and had thrown himself into figuring out this particular paper trail as a way to distract himself. And now this.

Something flickered, the faintest glimmer of gold out of the corner of his eye. Klaus twisted, hand curving along the gun at his hip and something like relief, something like frustrated fury knot in his lungs.

The bane of his existence.

He had no name for her, this elusive woman who worked so hard to destroy all his carefully laid plans. Until this moment, he'd have been hard pressed to identify anything other than her eyes - the unbending spine that he reluctantly admired.

"Well, sweetheart, this is a surprise. Here I thought you'd retired."

Grumpy, tired blue eyes caught his and her sigh was audible even through her mask as she pushed off the dirty bricks. His gaze narrowed as she was suddenly in relief, that one bright curl limp against her neck.

"Who did I kill in a previous life that I keep running into you?"

Klaus smirked and strolled forward. "Now now, love. Here I thought you didn't kill people? It being bad karma and all."

Those expressive eyes rolled. "We all make mistakes, and clearly in my previous life I wasn't so enlightened."

Amusement blunted the temper in his chest and he reached out to tug on her gleaming hair. "So, blondes do have me ore fun?"

She cursed and Klaus smiled, watched her tuck that little piece of herself away. Except now he knew. Blonde. Not that it was a huge detail, but it was a start.

She stepped around him, something in her stride hitching, and he caught her wrist with a frown. That she broke his grip immediately didn't bother him as much as the little tremble that rolled down her frame.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

Klaus rounded on her, jaw working under his own disguise. "You set off the alarms."

She pushed at him, the skin around her eyes tight with frustration and pain, now that he was looking. "And I'd rather not be caught, if it's all the same to you."

"When," he growled as he pushed even closer, temper deepening his voice. "Will you learn to stay out of things that don't involve you?"

Her head lifted, and he set his teeth in frustration. If you asked him what she looked like, he'd start with a stubborn chin and sharp cheekbones. A nose perfect for staring down someone, with her height.

"Go fuck yourself."

Startled by the profanity, he missed his chance to catch her as she wiggled around him, a hint of curves beneath those sturdy leathers. He swiped at her, missed and made to lunge when her knees gave out and she went straight to the street. The almost inaudible moan had him dropping next to her, hands going to her waist to steady her and he froze as he encountered an alarming amount of wetness.

"Bloody hell," Klaus snapped. Applying enough pressure to get another of those low, pain filled noises, he glared at her. "Do you have a death wish?"

"It's shallow," she rasped, swatting at his hand. "I'm fine."

"I realize you're a bit stubborn, love, but I'd never realized the insanity." He bared his teeth, made to snarl and froze when her fingers locked around his wrist. Footsteps and muffled voices. Klaus glanced around and swore under his breath when he realized how exposed they were.

"Don't move," she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible. "Don't say anything."

Her fingers were cold against his skin, but her grip was steady. Looking at those hazy and imploring eyes, he gripped his gun with his free and and waited. Listening, he counted five and grimaced. That wasn't impossible, but Kol bitched when he came home injured.

Adrenaline raced through his system, senses burning hyper aware. But he held her gaze, waiting. For a moment, Klaus thought he was somehow hallucinating as he watched her pupils streak with color. His skin twitched, a feeling not unlike static electricity washing over him.

"The cameras say she went this way."

"Well, if you hadn't blown out the night goggles, maybe we'd be able to see her."

"There isn't anything to see. She isn't here."

"Fuck."

"With the way Donovan stuck her, she's not going to make it much further, keep going."

Klaus counted to three hundred before he leaned in, until he could see the each brilliant shade of blue in her eyes. "You're a mutant."

"Surprise," she sassed, even as her lashes fluttered, fingers falling away from his wrist. The skin burned, as if she had branded him. Klaus considered his options and flicked his earpiece back on.

"I'm pretty sure we've talked about this. You turn off your mic, I drink all your expensive liquor. I thought you cared about my liver."

"I need an exit strategy. Assume I'm unable to fight."

"I am not stitching your white ass again," Kol warned. "I'm still in recovery."

"Now," Klaus ordered, even as he reached carefully for the woman slowly bleeding next him. "Let's go sweetheart."

"I've got a friend coming," she argued, voice fading into a soft grunt as he stood.

"I think it's time you and I had a chat," Klaus corrected as he moved softly down the alley. She wasn't light, the weight of her bones and muscle a bit of a surprise, but she was far easier to handle than a drunk Kol.

"No."

He laughed, because the little denial was grumpy and it reminded him of a spitting cat. But he had questions and he'd get his answers. Clearly, she wasn't working with Mikael and that meant she was coming at this from the outside and he wanted to know why. That she was a mutant just added a layer of complexity that he wanted to unravel.

"Are you with someone?"

Klaus ignored Kol. "Girls who are willing to bleed out instead of get help don't get a vote."

"I told you," she gasped out, "I have someone coming."

He tried to even his pace, to ease the strain on her wound, but he needed to hurry. "I don't care. Text them later."

"Bro, you are not bringing the chick back to the hideout? That's like, breaking all the rules. All of them. Hello? Are you listening to me?"

She went boneless against him and Klaus picked up his pace. Either she'd fainted or was conserving her energy for an escape attempt. Lips compressing, he wished her luck on that last one. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight until her wound was stitched and they had a long over due chat.

Starting with what she knew about Mikael.

* * *

Caroline slowly became aware of arguing.

"This is a goddamn nightmare. I can't even blame this on a pretty face, because you won't let me remove her mask. What if she has a traumatic brain injury? Needs to be identified by her kin? Then what?"

"Stop being dramatic. I thought we agreed to leave that to our sister?"

"Don't talk about our sister! She could be listening with her creepy mutant ears!"

Caroline kept her eyes closed, tried to keep her breathing regular but her abdomen was on fire. She was on her back, something soft underneath her head, but was mostly bare from the waist up. The wrap and mask she used to hide her face was still in place, and she felt a surge of short lived relief.

She might still be able to walk away.

"I'd bet you the Bahama Compound that you're wrong."

Oh God. She shivered in reflex at that low, accented voice. Klaus Mikaelson. The absolute bane of her existence. She could recall with absolute clarity each interaction she'd had with the billionaire. Her event company was still small, but they were good. Very good. And regardless of what she thought of the man, Klaus had never once batted a lash at her itemized bills. There was never one of the cranky back and forths with a personal assistant, no ridiculous accounts demanding copies of receipts she'd sent over twice.

But the man himself. Dimpled, with rumpled curls and that stupid accent that could curl the toes of her staff from three hundred yards. That he cheerfully ignored the usual dress code of the rich to parade around in jeans and henleys, those necklaces clinking as he walked?

"Artistic license," Klaus said with a shrug after a very pointed look at his boots. "Does it bother you, Miss Forbes?"

Caroline gave him her best pageant smile. "As long as you remember the dress code for the event, we shouldn't have a issue. But try not to track your artistic mud through my floors."

She couldn't even remember what it had been that had tipped her off. The cadence of his voice? That biting, edged way he had of snapping 'sweetheart' into the conversation just to see how she reacted? The movement of hands she refused to admit she had one or two dirty fantasies about?

She called in sick for the last two weeks, working diligently from home and avoiding him. What if she was wrong? What if she was right? Caroline had no idea what to do and Enzo, the complete asshole, signed up for night shift rotations to avoid her panic.

"I'll support your decision, gorgeous, but I'm not sitting through your crazy. Now, don't drink all the coffee and try to save us mere mortals some of the Blue Bell Ice Cream. I have to drive an hour each way for that."

"You're an ass."

"I'm fucking brilliant, which is why I'm leaving. You'll be fine. Moral dilemmas are for those with morals. I just try to keep people alive. I'll see you when I get home, and by see I mean wave as I go to bed."

Nothing she'd done had helped. Knowing the identity of the most wanted vigilante in the city ate at her. Finally, fueled by too much coffee, she sat down and started to research. She started when Klaus had been formally adopted by his biological father (did he keep Mikaelson out of spit? A cover?), through the deaths of mother and half-brother, through after she finally gave into Enzo's bitching and move to this city.

What she found shook her.

She'd been operating on a set number of assumptions and all of them crumbled under her fingertips. There was nothing overt linking Mayor Mikael Mikaelson to the city's crime wave, but the more she read the bigger the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Coupled with Klaus' seemingly endless vitriol and determination to kill half the police force, she'd spent a long time soul searching. Finally reaching the decision that she needed facts, she broke into the research lab she'd been looking at for a month for information.

She'd gotten what she'd been after and more.

The guard who'd gotten the lucky shots should never have been able to see her. And now she was laid up in Pain-In-Her-Ass-Mikaelson's freaking bat cave, or whatever, holding onto her anonymity by a hair's breath. She should have followed her mom's suggestion and joined Enzo in a medical profession. Her life would have been boring, but far less complicated.

"I don't like it when you bet me things you like," the man Klaus was arguing with said, breaking into her frustration. "I usually lose."

"Is that a no?"

"That's a yes and an I hate you."

"Excellent," Klaus drawled. "Are those bandages too tight, sweetheart?"

She parted her lashes reluctantly, knowing this was going to be complicated. Klaus was still decked in his mask and hood, watching her from shaded eyes. Something charged flared between them and she worked really hard not to shiver.

"Well, you're eyes aren't creepy, so that's something. I'd be careful during bikini season darling. Knife wounds are pretty specific scars."

Caroline glanced over and nearly laughed at what she had to assume was Kol. He'd splashed his face with paint and was wearing a bandana around his hair, the apron tied across his chest to hide or protect his clothing and it was too much. Laughter bubbled in her throat, but she choked out a hiss instead when she felt the stitches pull.

Warm, calloused fingers pressed below her sternum. She froze, the unexpected touch unnerving. Her eyes danced up, and he was watching her with an intensity that warmed her cheeks.

Thank God he couldn't see.

"You lost a lot of blood, and you needed fifteen stitches," Klaus told her coolly. "I don't know much about mutant constitution but you're lucky you didn't puncture anything internal."

She rolled her eyes but only tried to sit up once, that his hand stopped. Scowling, knowing he couldn't see it, she huffed. "I'm fine."

"No, I totally see it," Kol muttered. "It's the insanity. That's where the attraction lies. So glad we cleared that up."

Klaus ignored his brother so she did as well. "I think it's best that I leave."

"Why?"

Caroline let disbelief widen her eyes. "Do you really want to play the exchange our identity game? We're not on the same side."

"Interested in seeing what's under the mask?" Kol taunted. "I've seen it, nothing to write home about."

Caroline glanced over let scorn drip from her tongue. "You're an idiot."

The hand on her abdomen twitched. Caroline kept from reacting by sheer force of will and cursed mentally. Carefully, she glanced up and met the stunned blue of his gaze.

"That's impossible," Klaus said flatly, pressing close to her, breath hot against her skin even through the mask. "You don't seem the type to enjoy parties, love."

She hesitated. She could lie, could possibly escape this with some mystery intact. Or she could even the playing field, let him in on the fact that she knew. She chewed her lip and came to a decision.

"Yeah, well, this is taking your artistic license little far, don't you think?"

He didn't move for the count of ten, but then, gaze holding hers, he reached for her mask. Slowly, waiting for her protest, he peeled it down the flushed skin of her face and just stared. She knew what he saw. The fading bruise on her jaw, the red line on the bridge of her nose from the mask, and her compressed lips.

"The party planner is the mutant spy?" Kol demanded from behind her. "Why the hell did I put on this apron?"

Klaus scowled down at her. "How long have you known?"

"That doesn't matter," Caroline said, pushing at his hands, determined to sit up. She refused to discuss this lying flat.

"You need to stay down," Klaus growled.

"That's what she said," Kol muttered before clearing his throat. "So if she already knew your identity and hasn't gone running to dear old dad, does that invalidate the bet?"

Klaus pulled back his hood and tossed aside his mask and Caroline tried to keep from reacting to the full impact of his face. "I'd prefer to sit up."

"I'd prefer you didn't pull your stitches," Klaus returned. "After Kol sewed you up so neatly."

Glancing over, she gave Kol a tight smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kol said with an exaggerated bow. "Not bad for an MIT dropout."

His words were light, but there was bitterness there.

"Thank you," she repeated to avoid touching that and glanced back over at Klaus. "And I'm fine. I heal quick."

"How quick?"

"The stitches can come out in a few days," she said with a shrug, winced. "I'll probably not scar."

Those dark eyes studied her and he came to a decision. Sliding a hand under her knees, and with a display of strength that made her very aware of her torn clothing, Klaus lifted her. She dug her nails into the leather of his vest and hissed. "That hurt and put me down."

"Here I thought you'd like to clean up."

She set her jaw, and stared at him. "I can shower at home."

"That's not happening until the stitches come out," Klaus said flatly as he started walking. "Which, according to you is in three days."

"I'm not staying here," Caroline growled.

"If I have to put motion sensors on the windows and doors, I say you are," Klaus said bluntly as he cradled her to reach for the elevator button. Kol was behind them, muttering profanities as he clearly started to clean up. "But I think I'll just take away your hair cover. Hard to blend in with this shade of blonde, isn't it?"

"Go fuck yourself," she muttered waspishly as he stepped into the elevator.

Klaus laughed. "I am surprised at the temper, love. Who would have thought prim and proper Miss Forbes had one related to anything other than place settings and color schemes."

"Playboy Billionaires aren't worth my temper," Caroline to him coolly. "I've been stabbed, manhandled and bullied this evening. Anyone would be short."

Another of those warm, dimpled smiles and he stepped into an apartment that somehow balanced quiet opulence with warmth. "Well, let's see if I can acquit myself. How about I wash your hair?"

The temptation of his long fingered hands threading through her hair, working along her scalp nearly froze her tongue. Instead, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No. I don't need your help."

"Current circumstances suggest otherwise," Klaus murmured. "But I'll suppose we'll see, won't we."

Caring glared at him as he set her down.

She fervently wished her powers were more of the 'light someone on fire with her mind variety.' Which, from the little smirk he was wearing, he was perfectly aware of and enjoying. Ass.

How bad could three days be?

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Caroline stepped into work on Monday and braced herself. Katerina Petrova - known as Katherine to those who were unaware of her colorful history, and Kat by her friends, might've been her friend and partner but she was still a bitch. Which was probably why they'd remained friends.

"I don't care if your ears are still ringing from Enzo's lecture or how impressed he was by those stitches, you go dark on us for twenty-four hours again, and I'll make you miserable."

Caroline handed her the coffee she'd picked up to mitigate this conversation, and she sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I make no promises, but I'll try."

Katerina stared at her for a long moment before accepting the bribe. Caroline knew it wasn't the last she'd hear of it but they had work to do. Katerina was many things, but mostly she was efficient and crazy crafty, which was why they'd survived that first semester of being roommates. But it really hasn't been until Enzo barged into their lives and wheedled them into cohabiting an apartment with him that they'd become friends. Three years of undergrad in a two bedroom apartment - where Enzo slept on a futon in the living room - had cemented the tentative friendship.

But it was after her graduation, when she lost her mom unexpectedly to cancer, that made them family.

"So gorgeous, just to be clear, this is an intervention."

Caroline looked up from her spreadsheet, eyes tired and blinked at the serious expressions on her friends faces. "Huh, what?"

Katerina frowned at her, sitting down at the table. "I know losing your Mom has thrown you for a loop, but you're worrying us. I hate worrying, it gives me wrinkles."

Enzo shrugged at Caroline's disbelieving look. "Come on doll, talk to us."

"What is there to talk about?" Caroline diverted, gaze wary. "My mom died, I had to rescind my acceptance of the internship I really needed, and I'm freaking out. I'm sure it's fine."

Katerina rolled her eyes. "First, I'd never let you starve. You being hangry is exhausting and I don't have time for it. Second, we've got it all worked out."

"Got what worked out?"

Enzo smiled at her. "I got into med school."

"Of course you did," Caroline said in complete exasperation. "Was there any doubt?"

"More importantly, I got it at the university I wanted," Enzo said cheerfully. "I'm going to need a roommate."

"Huh?"

Kat leaned forward, smiled. "Here is what we are going to do. We're going to move with Enzo, because I'm really tired of this dinky little town. Then we're going to take part of your insurance money and use it as seed money- which I'll match - to start our own planning agency. We'll start small, work for far too cheap, and build a reputation and probably laugh as we watch Enzo study. Then once this dufus gets his Residency, we'll figure out if we have the capital and the patience to move to a bigger city."

"You've what, just decided this?"

"Well, someone had to think of something. You've been wallowing," Kat held up her hand to stop her protests. "It's fine, I understand, but I draw the line at moping."

"Come on gorgeous," Enzo coaxed. "Take a chance with us."

Caroline blinked rapidly. "The answer was always yes, you didn't have to lay it on so thick."

"Great, now that we have that out if the way, can we please talk about how you go weirdly invisible? Is it invisibility? That ridiculous camo-thing. I don't care and neither does Enzo, but you can't freak out the clients."

"Kat!"

"It needed to be said!"

God, that evening had led to all kinds of confessions. Halfway through her hesitant story Kat had left and come back with the Russian vodka she hoarded and shot glasses. There were just some things that moved your friends to family, and that was their defining moment.

"Because I have been understanding and patient, you're handling this next meeting."

"That's fair," Caroline groused. "Rude, but fair."

"Good, because April said that Rebekah Mikaelson brought one of her brothers and I refuse to deal with Elijah again. He either needs to get laid or let someone yank that stick out of his ass."

"I thought you thought he was hot."

"You think Klaus is hot, but you still want to light him on fire," Kat said flatly as they walked into their offices. "There is just no accounting for looks or personality. April has the details for the event, I'm going to go slog through my inbox. Good luck."

She had fifteen minutes to reacquaint herself with the file before heading to meet with the Mikaelson's. The Mayor's Benefit wasn't overly complicated, but Rebekah was a stickler for what she considered good form. She hoped Finn wasn't the brother with her - the oldest Mikaelson creeped her out. There was just something so... flat about him. Knowing now what she did about Mikael, her stomach churned at the idea of being in the same room with any of them. Thankfully, her wound was just an annoying twinge if she turned to fast.

She was halfway to the conference room when Rebekah came charging out, cheeks flushed with rage and eyes spitting. Caroline ground to a halt and blinked. "Are you alright?"

"Count your blessings you're an only child," Rebekah bit out. "I'm very sorry, but Klaus has all the paperwork. I'll schedule a call with April for later this week if I have any questions."

Caroline stared at her, lungs not quite working correctly. Licking dry lips, she stared at the closed door and cursed. She should have expected this. She'd taken advantage of the amazingly comfortable bed she'd been tucked into, and slept for the first twenty-four hours of her enforced bed rest. Klaus had checked in on her to change her bandages, and to watch her eat with that hair raising intensity, but left her be.

Healing herself was tricky and exhausting, and she usually let her system work quietly in the background if the wound was major. But she wasn't a child and she wasn't going to be bullied. So by the time Klaus had been called in to settle an issue with his board on Saturday, she was healed enough for the stitches to come out. She'd waited until Kol was snoring before sneaking out.

And now Klaus was sitting in one of her conference rooms waiting her out. Lifting her chin, she took one bracing breath. Then she marched in, determined to...

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm delighted to see you didn't bleed out," Klaus drawled as she shut the door behind her. Rolling her eyes, she set her folders down and met the burning of his glare with her own.

"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine," she dismissed. "Now, do you actually have an opinion on place settings and floral arrangements, or can I assume you decided to ambush me and that Kol is the reason Rebekah stormed out of here in a fury?"

Klaus stood and she mentally berated him for being so damn good looking. Today, he'd chosen a well worn Henley that was so thin she could just make out what might have been a tattoo behind the pale fabric. Now she was curious. She wondered if he'd file charges if she smacked him with a folder.

"I believe I made it clear we needed to chat," Klaus said firmly. "I was willing to have the discussion in a much more comfortable location, possibly with a good red, but then you went against my express wishes and bolted."

"Your point?"

"If you do that again, I'll spank you." Klaus murmured, eyes glittering.

"I'm not a child," Caroline said icily. "You in no way get to dictate my life."

"Sweetheart, what I'm thinking of in no way includes you being childish."

"What you're imagining will will never happen," she promised him, eyes narrowed. "I don't particularly care for your attitude right now."

"Then we're even," Klaus returned with a shrug. "Take a seat love, we have a lot to discuss."

She was caged in and she knew it. She could walk out, but then she'd have to explain why to Kat and deal with Rebekah. With an aggravated sigh, she sat. "You have forty minutes."

"You wound me," Klaus drawled. "How are those stitches?"

"Enzo took them out yesterday," Caroline dismissed.

"Enzo?"

She rolled her eyes. "Let's not even start pretending you haven't had Kol digging through any personal information he can get his hands on. Since he seems to have a knack for computers - he was far too bitter about MIT to be more than brilliant, I assume that his dropping out had something to do with our illustrious Mayor?"

Klaus eyes narrowed, lips parting but she held up her hand. "That wasn't a request for information. I'm not interested in Kol's secrets, Klaus. I'm just pointing out that I'm not an idiot."

"I'm aware of your intelligence, Caroline. The breadth of your idiocy, well, we'll just have to disagree on. What I can't figure out is how you got involved in this mess." Klaus drummed his fingers on the table, studied her with sharp eyes. "Kol is very interested in figuring out why until your mother received custody after your father's death, there are so few records."

She flinched at the mention of her mom, glanced away to brace herself. When she looked back, Klaus' expression had softened, something like regret behind his gaze. She didn't want his pity or his sympathy.

"Kol can keep wondering," Caroline informed him bluntly. Her childhood was a mess of highs and lows, horrors she'd never confessed even to Kat and Enzo. She had every intention of taking them to her grave. "My parents are not up for discussion."

Klaus tilted his head, but his eyes never changed. "You'll tell me eventually."

"You are the most arrogant man I've ever had the displeasure to converse with," Caroline ground out. "Please just spit out whatever it is you need to say so you can leave."

"I like puzzles," Klaus murmured. "You're stubborn, but strangely charming under the bite. You shouldn't have saved us both if you wanted me to leave you alone, love."

She gave him a tight smile. "Stalking is illegal."

A twitch of his lips, but then his face shifted to a serious expression. "I want you to leave this alone."

"No."

Temper turned his gaze vivid. "No?"

Caroline smiled beatifically. "No. Here's the thing, Klaus - you are not part of my life. We are apparently working in similar fields that require us to socialize over your unnecessary and ridiculous body count, but that's it. I appreciate your help this week as I'm sure you appreciate mine, but you don't get to dictate my life or my choices just because we both occasionally wear leather."

"So certain," Klaus said, something dangerous in his voice. "Mikael isn't a game."

"Thankfully, I've figured that out," she returned.

He arched a brow, studied her and let his dimples just flirt with her. "What are you doing tonight?"

She blinked, thrown by his sudden change of topic. She answered honestly, before she really caught herself. "I have a date."

Both brows arched, the glitter behind his gaze turning predatory. "Oh?"

Caroline frowned, studied that expression. Felt something flutter low in her abdomen. She could have sworn that was jealousy, but that was insanity. "Yes, and if you don't mind, I'm actually looking forward to this Galleria, so if you actually have a comment to make regarding Rebekah's event, please do. I have other clients to handhold today."

The next fifteen minutes were strictly professional, but something about the set of his jaw, that last quick glance as he left sent a streak of anticipation down her spine. Caroline gathered her papers and notations on auto-pilot, trying to decide what about him made her so hyperaware. Dry spell or not, Klaus Mikaelson shouldn't be so interesting.

She could never let Kat or Enzo know.

They knew that she'd figured out the vigilantes identity, that she had decided to keep the secret. For now. But if Kat even caught a hint of the surprising heat between her and Klaus, parkour hardcore or not, she'd find the man tied to her bed.

Best to just avoid that.

* * *

"This is so completely boring I may need a lobotomy to save what brain cells I have left."

Klaus swirled his drink, and ignored Kol's muttered complaints. The Art Galleria was full of important and irritating people, but he had to give Caroline credit. The art was well displayed and he saw a few pieces he intended to take home. He wondered if she actually enjoyed art, or if she preferred the socializing.

"Are you certain none of the invitations had her name?"

"As exorbitant as her company's fees are, the buy in for the auction was out if your girl's price range. Do you read anything I send you?" Kol asked as he swiped two drinks, downing one and cradling the other. "Pathetic. You've become pathetic in your old age."

Klaus sighed. "Why are you here again?"

"To watch you crash and burn."

"I appreciate your support."

"Yeah well, you're also blind, because she's standing right there, looking at that hideous landscape."

Klaus turned his head and felt his mouth run dry at the sight of her. Caroline was wearing a dress in shade of dark crimson, which brought out the intriguing gold of her hair. He bit back a groan as she turned, the modest cut of her skirt and neckline deceiving, as the back of her dress was nearly completely bare; showcasing the shift of muscles and line of her spine.

Kol whistled and handed Klaus the drink in his left hand. "Lockwood is a lucky, lucky man."

Gaze leaving the lovely picture Caroline cut, Klaus considered the figure of her date. He imagined one of those things her morals would balk at was financially ruining Lockwood, but watching him slip a hand down the expanse of bare skin, lingering just above the curve of her ass, he was tempted. More importantly however, was the perfectly straight line of Caroline's spine.

For all that she was smiling, she was clearly rethinking her choice of her attire. Klaus might not be completely comfortable with the emotions that she stirred in his chest, but he wasn't willing to ignore them, either. His reaction to finding her missing from the bed she was supposed to be resting in had been a fairly rude awakening. It was one thing to drag her to his lair, sew her up after she'd helped him. To know her identity, see that stubborn chin lift while her eyes spat fire, to sketch the wild tumble of that hair on his pillows...

He'd pity Tyler Lockwood, if he wasn't such an imbecile.

"Kol..."

"Yeah, yeah," Kol muttered, cracking his neck. "I'll play your Girl Friday and distract the moron so you can go off and play seventh heaven in a closet."

"Don't be crass," Klaus said mildly. "Some of us last longer than seven minutes."

"Yeah, well, let's see if we can keep your Lady Luck from finding out what kind of stamina her date has," Kol muttered before sliding into the crowd.

Klaus gave Kol fifteen minutes, moving through the crowd, working a few connections. He didn't care for this type of socialization, but Ansel had insured he could do it.

"I realize you hate Mikael," Ansel said quietly from the door of the room Klaus had claimed as his own. The windows created broken ring of light, the bare hardwood floors covered in splattered sheets. Klaus looked over, paint brush held tightly between his fingers.

This was still a new thing. A father figure who used words and a quiet confidence to investigate, instead of fists and rage. "Yes."

Ansel's mouth twitched but he made no move to enter the room. That was new as well, these allowed boundaries. "I know is the papers are dragging this particular story through the proverbial dirt, but it will pass."

Klaus watched him, wary. "Does it bother you that I kept his name?"

"No," Ansel said, but his eyes were sad. "I understand and appreciate your strategy, from a tactical perspective it's a smart move. I'm just sad that I forced you into such a role. Had I known you were mine before Esther's death, Mikael would never have been near you, regardless of her wishes."

Klaus shrugged. "It's done."

"Yes, for now," he agreed. "But I would like you to remember two things. Regardless of blood, Mikael will always see you as a chess piece, especially once I'm gone. You will need to mitigate this by learning to be even more savvy than he in a political and social arenas, without raising suspicions."

"I'm not good with people," Klaus said, glancing away from those knowing eyes.

"Then you will learn," Ansel said calmly. "You are wealthy, therefore automatically eccentric. As long as you remember that most people are more alarmed when you threaten their wallets than their morals, you'll be fine."

"And the second thing?"

"Loyalty, the kind the does not bend or break, is a rare gift. Protect it."

Klaus snagged two glasses of champagne and approach Caroline's silhouette. Her head was tilted, the soft fall of curls from her updo framing her curious face. "Champagne?"

Wary blue eyes cut over, but Caroline accepted the drink with a sigh. "Kol is an ass."

"I'm far more concerned with Lockwood," Klaus told her, watching that profile carefully. "I can't imagine there is an excuse anywhere worthy of leaving your side."

She snorted, the inelegant noise a direct contrast the faint pink in her cheeks. But she'd hardly be Caroline - either version - if she gave him any ground. Turning to face him, she scanned him unashamedly.

"Well, you do own a suite. That's a bit of a relief, since you've insisted on planning a black tie event."

Klaus ignored her waspish attempt to redirect their conversation, kept his smile to himself. Ms. Caroline Forbes wasn't as immune to him as she'd pretended that afternoon, if the widening of her pupils and the faintest hitch in her breathing said anything. Curiosity, lust, frustrated attraction - he didn't care.

A crack in her armor was all he needed.

"Interested in this one? A tad lonely," Klaus murmured, redirecting her wrath towards the artwork in front of them.

Her expression shifted to exasperation. "It's hideous."

Choking on a laugh, he politely coughed until he got control of himself. "I beg pardon?"

She rolled her eyes, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. "I saw what you kept in your apartment, you can't have appreciated those and still admired this... my eyeballs are offended."

Delight curled in his chest, curved his lips. "You liked the art in my apartment?"

Caroline sipped her champagne, and her gaze turned wary. He wondered if she sensed the trap under his words. Lips compressed, she let her lashes hood her gaze and sidestepped his question.

"I'm surprise that so few of the local artists made into the auction this year," she worried her lower lip with her teeth, something he couldn't read in her eyes.

"Do you attend this event each year, then?" He didn't attend last year, but the year before he had as a favor to a friend. He didn't recall seeing her, wasn't sure he'd have taken note.

"Yes," Caroline sighed. "Tyler was a lifesaver this year, the committee raised the entrance fees and then limited the run. They wanted it to be more exclusive."

Klaus frowned at the scorn in her voice. "I take it you didn't agree?"

Caroline looked at him, clearly judging his expression before she shrugged. "The smaller, local artists need a firm platform to exhibit their work. Established artists, they don't need the publicity. Everyone should have the chance to follow their dreams and exclusivity, bringing in outside names defeats that purpose."

Charmed by the heat in her voice, that biting defense of a community he once knew very well, he caught the fingers drumming against her thigh. Bringing her the underside of her wrist to his mouth, he pressed a kiss there. Lingered until her pulse sped up against his mouth.

"You're magnificent," Klaus murmured against her skin.

The flush that crawled up her throat and to her cheeks left him with a gut-deep hunger to see how far it trailed down her chest. She tugged her hand free and glowered at him. "Stop flirting. It's ridiculous and I'm here with Tyler."

"I don't see him, love."

Caroline leaned close enough he caught the scent of her perfume, and smiled with her teeth. "I will make you regret it if don't stop this foolishness immediately."

"I do like a challenge."

Her eyes rolled and no doubt she was trying to set him on fire with her mind again, but a saccharine sweet voice cut into their conversation, much to his annoyance.

"Klaus! I didn't know you knew Caroline."

Klaus turned, offered his most charming smile to Elena Salvatore nee Gilbert. She was flushed from the champagne, the befuddled expression one she preferred to invite answers. "Mrs. Salvatore, a pleasure to see you."

"Damon will be displeased to have missed you," Elena sighed. "He had some work to do at the Mayor's office."

Caroline stepped next to Klaus, offered the reflective brilliance of her smile. "You did a lovely job with the setup, Elena. How did you steal so many collections for other cities?"

"It was difficult, the board really wanted to stay local, but Mayor Mikaelson agreed we needed to bring in some diversity." She smiled brightly, clearly pleased with herself. "Are you thinking of joining the bidding, Caroline?"

"I'm sure most of the work is too rich for my blood. And I believe I see Tyler," she glanced up at Klaus and the spark of mischief there had his own gaze narrowing. "Thank you for explaining the paintings to me. Mr. Mikaelson is apparently very fond of art, Elena. You should show him some of the highlights from the brochure."

Klaus smiled tightly as Ena latched onto his arm, greed turning her eyes bright. There had been something in Caroline's posture, in her tone of voice, when she spoke of outside cities that niggled at him. She glanced over her shoulder as Elena started to pull him towards exhibits, talking too loudly.

He promised revenge with his eyes.

She bit her lip, laughed at him with her gaze, and disappeared. Klaus let Elena tug him along with a fake, gracious smile and plotted. He'd start with flowers. Something as sickeningly sweet as Elena Gilbert. Nothing flashy, but a subtle reminder that two could play this game.

A game he planned on winning.

* * *

Please Comment.


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies that this took so long to get out!

* * *

Klaus had known he would find Caroline at the warehouse. Her over-bright smile at Elena after her utter disapproval regarding the artists who'd been brought in were signals an idiot wouldn't miss. He had to give her credit, his little spy, she did her best to distract him.

"I do worry about her," Elena murmured, doe-eyed, fingers gripping his arm tightly. "She's one of those people who always seem to take their work home with them."

"I'm not privy to Ms. Forbes personal life," Klaus deflected, studying the art they passed as best he was able. He felt he was missing something, and it clawed at his gut.

Elena cast a quick glance from beneath her lashes, but Klaus kept his face bland. He hadn't been aware that Caroline and Elena were friends, but the amusing physical resemblance between Mrs. Salvatore and Katerina Petrova might have played a part? He made a note to ask Kol what gossip he'd picked up from Lockwood.

Still, he didn't like that curious, expectant look behind Elena's eyes. Who he chose to associate with was always fodder for gossip, but this poor attempt to read him wasn't amusing.

Elena sighed when it was clear he was done speaking. "I think Tyler could be so good for her, but Caroline is stubborn. But all good things come to those who wait! And Tyler seems determined."

Klaus dimpled. "I wouldn't know. I'm not much for waiting."

"Yes, I'd heard that." Elena smiled brightly, seemingly satisfied with his answer and pulled him along, switching to chattering about the more popular artists on display.

He'd given Caroline two days. Then he quietly staked out the art warehouse, using Kol to keep watch through the limited cameras. His brother had complained, and there was nothing more irritating than a bored Kol. The past three nights had been filled with endless complaints and innuendos.

"I cannot believe we're just standing around, waiting for the possibility of your mutant beauty to show up. What if you miss her? Your track record is terrible."

Klaus had little doubt that Caroline could slip past even the best defenses. Which was why her little espionage run through the laboratory shouldn't have surprised him, but her near capture did. That she'd clearly been ambushed was a problem he'd spent hours sitting in front of an easel considering and he'd yet to come to a satisfactory conclusion. Not everyone had a Kol hunting through computer systems, and Caroline was very good at staying in the shadows.

Which just added a few more questions to the list he was compiling.

"I'm assuming your silence is because you're still hiding by the big skylight instead of doing anything useful. If you get caught, see if she'll take you back to her place for that roommate to look at you, because I'm on a stitch-boycott."

Klaus opened his mouth to make a biting comment and paused. He'd assumed based on her previous movements and tendency towards heights that she'd take to the roofs. He glanced towards the office, senses humming. He'd heard nothing, Kol hadn't seen anything... yet...

"Check the computers."

"What?"

"Do it."

"Okay, fine, but she's not there. You've got eyes watching the place - _me_ , and... what the hell?"

Klaus dropped the twenty feet to the ground and tucked into a roll. The warehouse was utterly silent, and he moved on careful feet towards where he knew the office was located. For a top secret smuggling operation or whatever was going on here, there was a distinct lack of security.

"She's looking at manifests. That's it." Kol's voice was terse, irritation clear in each word. "How the hell did she get by me?"

"I want copies of anything she clicks on."

"Why don't you just ask for it? I thought all the ladies threw their panties at your dimples. Surely it isn't that difficult for you to get a few manifests from a pretty, mutant, spy person?"

"If it's too difficult..."

Kol scoffed. "That stopped working when I was thirteen!"

Klaus grinned to himself and eased the door open. Vivid blue eyes glanced up and rolled in his direction. "Hello, sweetheart."

"I don't have time for you."

Brows arching, even though he knew she couldn't see it from underneath his hood, he went to make a glib comment and stopped himself. The skin around her eyes was tight, and sweat bright against her skin. "You're pale."

"You're ridiculous."

He waited until she'd finished typing, watching her tuck the USB drive into a hidden pocket. With Kol following her footprints - or simply downloading everything - he could concentrate on Caroline. He waited until she tried to step around him before he used his body to cut off her exit, fingers curling around her wrist, automatically checking the flutter of her pulse.

Her eyes were blue, but the colors were off - streaks of near purple turned her gaze nearly bruised. "What happened?"

Her eyes narrowed, temper brightening the shade into something more familiar. "Let go."

"Now, sweetheart, that's hardly the way to talk to someone who's simply concerned," Klaus chided. He let his gaze go hard, held her eyes. "Your pulse is too quick, your skin is clammy and your eyes are the wrong color. What happened?"

She hissed between her teeth, the noise loud in the room, but she suddenly froze and he followed her into a crouch. "'Did you hear that?"

Klaus canted his head. "Anything on the cameras?"

Caroline glanced at him. Confusion was clear in her gaze but he tilted his head; let her glimpse the earpiece usually hidden in his hood and her eyes cleared. He wondered what she thought of Kol.

"Oh? Did you remember I was here? I'm delighted," Kol growled. "You've got a couple of guards doing their rounds... although usually guards don't pack that much firepower. I'm not showing any alarms triggered. Did your girlfriend hit something?"

"Two guards," Klaus murmured. "My exit is out."

She nodded, and pulled off her gloves. Reaching out, she curled her hand between his own glove and the edge of his shirt. He set his teeth, trying not to comment on the clammy feel of her hand. "Stay close and do not step out of the shadows."

This time he was better prepared for the crawl of whatever she did to wash over his skin. The sensation was different, a little less like static electricity and more of a faint hum of sensation. Klaus wondered how much had to do with her control. He intended to ask.

But he kept his mouth shut until they'd slipped out a side door he'd decided was too risky; the sight lines were obscured, but he'd have managed the shot. He couldn't help the quirk of his lips and how she'd surprised him again. When her hand released him he caught her fingers tightly between his.

"Talk to me."

She spun, and while he was relieved to see the fight back in her eyes, he ground his teeth at the walls there. "Look, just because we have similar night hobbies, it doesn't mean we are on the same side!"

"I think that depends on what you mean by side," Klaus replied. "Morality means something quite different to us, but I believe we want to accomplish similar goals."

Her head tilted, and he cursed her disguise for hiding the press of her lips, the angle of her chin. "I'm not working with you."

"Pity," Klaus drawled, letting his tone bite. "Pushing me away won't solve this."

"There is nothing to solve," she ground out. "You have your vendetta and I have mine. Leave it."

He bared his teeth in a proxy of a smile, stepped into her space. "I distinctly remember asking you something similar not a week ago and you very firmly rebuffed those attempts. Change your mind?"

"See, that's the thing Klaus," Caroline murmured, eyes glittering in the dull light. "I'm not following you, demanding answers. My secrets are mine. Should I decide to tell them to anyone, it'll be to someone I trust."

"You haven't told those friends of yours - don't bother denying it sweetheart, your eyes don't speak of a shared past but of burdens carried alone." Klaus tilted his head to better hold her gaze. "We both know more than the other is comfortable with, sweetheart."

"Some burdens are meant to be carried alone," Caroline said stubbornly.

He caught her hand, pressed against the bare skin of her palm. "That's where you're wrong."

"Don't play the romantic for information." Her voice was filled with exasperation and an unexpected sharpness. "It's beneath you."

"I play at very little in life, love. I don't need to." Klaus let his tone soften, stepped away just enough to give her space she seemed to desperately need. She was clearly rattled, her body language and eyes contradicting. "Sweetheart, let me help."

"No."

Klaus smiled at the surly tone of her voice. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Her eyes narrowed, a few threads of gold brightening the determination of her gaze as she turned and walked away. He watched her until the shadows swallowed her. Klaus wondered how she'd react if she knew that her refusals hadn't put him off, the guarded way she boarded her secrets enticing him to pry. Something had happened, and it infuriated him that she refused to let him in.

"Well, that went well. I think the only way she could've been clearer was if she'd tried to shove something sharp and pointy into your jugular. Do you want me to keep digging?"

"No," Klaus murmured. Regardless of what Ms. Caroline Forbes wished to believe, Klaus knew down to his bones that this was just the beginning. "Whatever her secrets, she's buried them. Let it lie for now."

He had every intention of learning all her secrets, what left those bruises in her fascinating eyes. Klaus was certain both of them would bleed before this was done. But so be it.

He still had a few cards left to play.

* * *

Caroline had a raging headache.

The week had become her personal ragnarok, between the fiasco with Klaus at the warehouse and then the nightmares that continued to plague her. She cursed her subconscious, the memories she buried that had been so brutally yanked to the surface. Just thinking about the scent - sawdust, dust and the faintest touch of metallic - left her shaky.

She'd never admit it, but Klaus showing up to growl at her had grounded her better than anything since her mom died. The challenge of him - mental, emotional, and physical - was somehow bracing. She might've even considered being nicer the next time they ran into each other, except for the flowers.

Her eye twitched just thinking about it.

Colorful, tasteful arrangements that were bright pops of color and sunshine had been showing up like clockwork for the past week. Katerina had been amused, but that look behind her best friend's gaze had shifted to full on predatory. And his notes. Oh no, they weren't the generic 'have a nice day' or 'I was thinking about you, please think of me.' Those she could have blown off and tossed as easily as the actual flowers.

Drat the man, he was sending her sketches.

Colorful, little bursts of story. Her swallow tattoo. Hilarious stick figure duels. She'd tucked them away in her desk, and tried not to wonder at a man who was so at odds with what she believed, creating such little works of art. For a moment, she let herself daydream. But dreaming only left her with bloodied palms when they shattered between her tightly clenched fingers.

Klaus knew what she was and saw some of her secrets; the anti-mutant stance had merely quieted until the next election. Caroline couldn't imagine he'd risk a penny of his empire if the tide turned again. There was an agenda with him that she just couldn't see yet; there was always an agenda. Even if there was an inexplicable spark between them - she admitted it, okay? - that didn't nearly explain this... nonsense. Klaus Mikaelson, the playboy making a move she could rationalize; the rumor mill was quick to paint him as a lover of women. But Klaus the vigilante watched her with eyes she couldn't read, that annoying smugness and curling smirk digging into her psyche. Surely she wasn't the first woman who wanted to light him on fire?

Pushing into the lobby of reception, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her day had been filled with hellish meetings and client hand holding, and all she wanted was her tub and a glass of wine. Maybe she'd get lucky and had Enzo cooked before disappearing. She considered that while she dreamed of the comfy flats tucked into her desk.

"You look terrible. Are you sleeping?" Kat asked as she strolled out, clearly leaving for the day. She was juggling her laptop and purse, hair twisted into a messy bun. "Does Enzo know you're trying out for an extra in that God-awful show of his? Dead Walking? Walking Dead? Doesn't matter. Go home."

Caroline rolled her eyes and winced at the clock. Half-past six, no wonder she was hungry. Lunch had been a meeting and she'd barely gotten through half her salad. "I'm going, I'm going. I just need to glance real quick at my emails and then I'm out."

"Uh huh," Kat drawled. A sly, curious look stopped Caroline in her tracks.

"What?"

"No flowers today."

"Thank God."

Instead of heading to the elevator, Kat turned and followed her back through the glass doors. "So, I'm curious."

"The last time you were curious about what you erroneously thought was my love-life, I found that wide-receiver tied naked to my bed," Caroline said waspishly. "We're lucky he didn't press charges."

"Regardless of your prudish alarm," Kat replied with a touch of disdain in her voice. "There was no way he was pressing charges after he got an eyeful of your tits. However, that's in the past. Today, that evil doppelganger of mine brought in something from your billionaire admirer."

"Elena was here?"

"Caroline - you don't just go around calling out to Lucifer, you refer to him by other means. I don't want Satan in my office, much less one baring hideous gifts. I will not be held responsible for assaulting someone trying to steal my face - I've said this. She simpers, it's God-awful."

"I don't have a billionaire admirer. He's just being an ass, because I annoyed him," Caroline dismissed as she opened her door. The rest of her rebuttal died on her lips as she took in the painting that had been hung on her wall.

"Then what is that?"

Caroline stared at the hideous painting she'd complained about to Klaus, in silent disbelief. Not only had he purchased it, but _Elena Salvatore_ had hung it on her wall. Temper ignited in her chest and her exhaustion fell away. With a growl, she headed straight back to the elevator.

"Care?"

"It's a declaration of war," Caroline snarled as she hit the down button several times. "I'm going to make him eat it."

"Hate sex would be good for you," Kat mused as they stepped into the elevator. "Maybe you'd sleep."

"I'm going to murder him, Kat; there will be no sex, angry or otherwise."

"Care, your combat evolution doesn't include offensive capabilities. Be sure to unbutton that top a little. He'll never notice you reaching for his neck if he can see your boobs."

Caroline scowled at her. "Did you just refer to one of Enzo's video games?"

"If I'm going to suffer through those idiotic things, I'm going to make everyone suffer with me. Remember, tits out."

By the time she made it back through downtown traffic to the ridiculous high-rise apartment of his she'd shifted from irate to fuming. She supposed he could be at the estate outside of town, but he was pushing her buttons on purpose. He'd stay close. The sooner he took that God-awful painting out of her office, the better. She braced herself for fighting with the doorman but frowned when she was waved through after providing her I.D.

"Mr. Mikaelson said if you showed up to send you through."

Caroline gave the doorman a flat stare. "When was this?"

"A few weeks ago, ma'am."

Caroline chewed on that all the way to the penthouse and decided that was the least of her issues. Her feet hurt, her head hurt and exhaustion was creeping along her spine. Compressing her lips, she smashed the doorbell with an impatient huff.

She wasn't expecting the sensory overload of the Klaus who opened the door. Curls damp, he brought with him the scent of something delicious, the worn Henley and jeans somehow managing to give an air of _comfortable_ when previously he'd only inspired the urge to strangle him.

He was barefoot.

"Caroline," Klaus drawled, lips curled into a dimpled smile that made her stomach jump. "I take it you didn't like the painting after all?"

"You're an ass," Caroline said bluntly, glaring into his perfectly handsome face. "Stop it."

Klaus leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, continued to grin as if he had all the time in the world. "Stop what?"

She jabbed a finger at him. "I'm not apologizing for anything I said at the warehouse. So whatever campaign you're on to embarrass me, cut it out. I have a business to run and I don't need my employees riled up with ridiculous, and untrue gossip because you've got a burr up your ass."

His gaze heated, darkening as he slid his eyes down her rumpled suit, lingering on the heels which put her nearly at a height advantage with him barefoot. When his eyes returned to hers, they were hot with something that made her breath catch. "Well now, that'd depend on the gossip. As much as I love this foreplay of ours, I need to make sure dinner isn't burning. Shoes off and shut the door behind you."

She snarled as he walked away. Caroline gave herself to the count of ten - goddamn those jeans - before sliding out of her heels and slamming the door shut behind her. Dropping her shoes, she stomped after him and paused, biting her lip to wiggle her aching toes against the unexpected plushness of the carpet. She heard him banging around in the kitchen she couldn't quite see, and looked across the layout, curiosity almost pushing aside her anger.

"How do you feel about Italian?"

Her stomach rumbled and she took a deep, centering breath and followed him around the corner. "I'm not eating. Seriously Klaus, this is getting ridiculous."

The kitchen was lovely.

Enzo would be so jealous.

Klaus in the kitchen, with his Henley rolled to his elbows, and clearly comfortable in his work space was mouth watering. There was a bottle of something breathing on the counter, and whatever he was cooking smelled unbelievably amused glance he graced her with as her eyes jumped along the open layout, the casualness to this space was full of affection.

"Wine?"

"What?" Her gaze snapped back to him.

"Would you like a glass of wine, sweetheart?" He reached for a dish towel and wiped his hands, studying her intently. "You have a headache."

Caroline rolled her eyes, looking to the ceiling patience. "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am," Klaus said as he poured a glass. "You hate the painting. You don't believe I'm inciting gossip for any purpose but to annoy you and you're insisting on leaving before dinner. How am I doing so far?"

She studied him, lips pursed. He seemed more amused and determined than irritated, but she didn't trust that smile. That smile promised things that Kat would approve of and that was probably a terrible idea. "8.7."

His smile widened. "On what scale?"

"Does it matter?" Caroline ran her fingers through her bangs with a frustrated sigh. "What are you doing, Klaus?"

He reached behind him and clicked off the burners. "Sweetheart, if I was any other man, and you were standing in his kitchen while he cooked you dinner, what would you assume?"

She blinked at him. "This isn't a date."

He offered her the wine with a devil may care smile that nearly curled her toes. "Yet."

"Klaus..."

"You have questions," he cajoled, eyes wicked. "I owe you a couple of secrets. You might as well take me up on dinner love, as the kind of discussion you want needs privacy and we know you're not ready for that flavor of pillow talk."

"Do you _hear_ yourself?"

"A blind monk would be tempted by you, Caroline." The raw tone to his voice startled her, and she took the wine as a liquid defense if nothing else. It'd ruin the carpet, but she'd do it. "We've started out a little badly, and I'd hardly call our exchange of information equal. I'm offering to fix that."

She sipped the red, tried not to sigh in pleasure. Tilting her head, she tapped her glass. "That's easy enough to do without bringing a date into this."

"But false, as my interest isn't purely professional."

Caroline tapped her foot, debating. He let her, shifting his focus back to the food he was preparing. She could walk out. Leave him and his delicious smelling food that would probably taste like cardboard; go home to much cheaper bottle of wine and a hot bath.

She'd meant every word at the warehouse. They weren't on the same side. Klaus was ruthless, she'd caught a few glimpses of the hunter that lived under his skin, had watched him execute dirty cops without a flicker of a lash.

But she'd spent hours reading through files and trying to connect paper trails. Between the labs and the warehouse, she knew she had the information she needed. She just couldn't see it. The problem was somehow avoiding her past.

Maybe the key to that was this date nonsense. She couldn't deny there was... something there. Caroline just doubted it was more than Klaus curiosity and the obvious physical attraction. Taking another sip of her wine, she mulled on that. She could eat here, gather information and let Klaus come to the conclusion that there was little more than possibility of sex between them.

Sex they wouldn't be having.

"Fine," Caroline said abruptly. Klaus' head snapped around, blue eyes intent. She held up one finger and stared him down. "You get one date."

His gaze narrowed, the sudden predatory look behind his eyes challenging her in return. "I'm not going to be satisfied with one."

"That's not my problem," Carine said coolly. "You've spent the last week harassing me with flowers and then you sent me that God-awful painting. It's been a long enough week without your dramatics, I don't have a reason to agree to a second date, much less a third. You want more of my time? Make it worth my while."

Klaus smile was sin bracketed by dimples and Caroline _knew_ he was human. She'd run her power along his bones and sinew, had felt herself echo through the long lines of him as she camouflaged them both. But as he canted his head, eyes nearly black with the iron of his challenge, her stomach fluttered with an unexpected and heady mix of arousal and adrenaline.

"Are you sure that's what you want, sweetheart? Because once we start down this path, I'm not backing down."

Caroline took another slow mouthful, ran the wine over her tongue before she shrugged. "We haven't started anything, Klaus. I'm agreeing to a beneficial exchange of information; you're the one requiring this to be framed as a date."

Klaus arched a brow. "I'm not one to hide behind business arrangements when I see something I want, Caroline."

She shrugged. "I'm not hiding. I'm perfectly content to continue as I have, you've hardly made anything else worth my time."

A glittering look that she felt to her bones made her a liar, but she held her composure by a thread. Klaus broke eye contact to reach for plates. "Come make a plate, Caroline. Dinner's ready. You're going to need it."

She set down her wine glance and accepted the china with a shrug. "So you say."

Klaus ran his tongue along his lower lip, smirk firmly in place. "Food first, Caroline; afterwards you can challenge me with your eyes and tongue. I might not always live up to your expectations, but I'll make it worth it."

She ignored the innuendo and hoped she knew what she'd gotten into. Because Klaus was stubborn, and so was she. The odds that this ended in a raging disaster were astronomical.

But as she settled into the intimate little nook he'd directed her too, she caught herself watching him move. Admiring the strength of his forearms and the surprising grace of his hands. She blamed the wine; the deliberately casual environment he'd crafted in his overpriced apartment.

"Bon appetit, love."

Caroline smiled, and met his hunting gaze.

Challenge accepted.

* * *

 ** _Please Comment_**


	4. Chapter 4

Here is Chapter Four!

* * *

Caroline stared moodily at the glowing elevator buttons. It was half past one, she'd been forced to cancel her lunch meeting and send Katherine instead. If she'd known she'd be touring a venue for three hours she'd have worn different shoes. Dreaming of the flats in her desk drawer as well as her stash of peanut m&m's, she adjusted her bag with determination and marched past reception.

"Ma'am?"

Caroline paused, shifting her weight as best she could to stay off her toes. "Yes?"

"Your two o'clock is early and Katherine suggested he go in."

She blinked stupidly. "My two o'clock?"

April, their generally unflappable receptionist, blushed. "Yes ma'am."

Praying for patience she didn't have, she headed for her office. Teeth set, she glared at Katherine's closed door as she caught the scent of food. Promising herself something amazing for dinner, she opened her door with a smile plastered on and froze.

Klaus was standing at her window, hands shoved into a pair of suit pants that fit him beautifully, the stark white of his dress shirt showcasing the lingering tan from summer months; sleeves rolled to nearly his elbows. He'd apparently forgone a tie and his suit jacket was tossed over a chair. Klaus in a tux was devastating, this man in a tailored suit just rumpled made her want to do dirty things.

She shut the door as he turned, and the cutting remark died on her tongue as she looked at the wall that had once housed the monstrosity he'd purchased and hung on her wall as a lure. Instead, a beautiful landscape that blended into the aesthetics of her office graced her wall. The coloring and brush strokes reminded her of the art she'd covertly admired at Klaus' mansion and later, his penthouse.

"You look tired."

Her eyes jumped back to Klaus, and he tilted his head in consideration. For a single second, she nearly let herself be made uncomfortable by his presence and pushed it aside.

"Some of us have day jobs," Caroline responded pertly, walking to her desk to deposit her briefcase. "Why are you here?"

"You said you'd be in touch," Klaus said with a shrug. "I decided five days was long enough. I brought an apology."

"Is that what this is?" She let her lips purse, tried not to shift her weight as her feet throbbed. She leaned her hip against her desk to take her weight and eyed him. "Do you want a thank you?"

His lashes lowered, heat and mischief making her nerves buzz. His gaze lingered on her lips for three deliberate heartbeats before he met her eyes. "Well, that depends, love. If we argue, will you let me make it up to you like last time?"

Her stomach jumped and she kept her expression even with a great deal of willpower. She would not think of that kiss. She would _not_.

Caroline glanced back at the painting, let her gaze linger in the hopes the blush crawling up her throat would fade. After a moment, she risked a glance in his direction, and sidestepped his comment. "What did you do with the other painting?"

"It's been donated to a nice museum," Klaus said, amusement in his gaze. For a moment, they stared at each other. She broke her gaze to glance back at the canvas, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

"Do you like it?" Klaus murmured, coming to stand next to her. "You seemed to enjoy similar work when you were in my home."

She glanced at him, caught her breath at the heat in his gaze. "Did you bug it?"

His lips curved, but Klaus didn't break their gaze. "I was tempted, but as always, I'd rather you come to me. How long are you going to keep avoiding me, Caroline?"

Caroline compressed her lips and she glanced away. "My staff are going to get the wrong idea if you keep this up."

"Let me take you on an actual date, and they'd get the right idea." Klaus countered, eyes narrowed.

"I agreed to a single date," she replied, straightening to eye him. "I think I met that obligation over dinner at your place."

"That wasn't a date," Klaus returned just as easily, stepping into her personal space. She held her ground, heels putting her nearly at eye level with him, the height difference negligible like this. "There was wine, and food, but you were there because I baited you into it. Because we have a mutual concern and we needed to talk. A date, Caroline, would be you and me, _intimacy_."

She froze as he leaned in, eyes intent. "Klaus…"

"Do I tempt you at all, Caroline?" He reached up and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. "Because when I look at you, I see possibilities. I want to explore that, us. But it means nothing if you aren't interested as well."

She breathed in shakily and pulled away, ignoring the way his gaze darkened. "It's not that easy."

A quirk of his lips, and he turned on his heel, pausing only to grasp his jacket. "Of course it is, love. Either you want to see where this goes or you do not. I'm not a man to endlessly throw myself onto a pyre. If this is something you want, let me know."

She opened her mouth, started to call him back and bit her lip instead. The door to her office closed, and she ran her hand over her face with a sigh. Sitting, she toed off her heels and opened her drawer to find her flats. She froze as she took in the new, ridiculously colored slippers, running one fingertip over the fuzzy softness.

She nearly stood and ran after him, but her eye caught an envelope tucked next to her phone. Her name was there in precise, block print and she opened it carefully. A ticket to the ballet this weekend fell out, along with a note.

' _Give me a chance.'_

Caroline dropped her head into her hands and quietly cursed.

* * *

 _Caroline slipped her heels back on with a grimace and ignored the narrow eyed way Klaus tracked her movements. As much as she absolutely hated to admit it, the wine and food had gone a long way to easing her headache. Klaus had been an unexpectedly easy going dinner companion, only shifting into the more serious topics once she'd slowed down._

 _It was a courtesy she hadn't expected._

" _Let me call my car around."_

" _No," she replied as she turned to face him. She lifted her phone and wiggled it. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own cab, thank you."_

" _Must you be so difficult?"_

" _Yup." She opened the door, tilted her head. "Thank you for dinner, but if you bait and switch me again, you'll regret it."_

 _Amusement colored Klaus' gaze. "Of course, love."_

 _She eyed him for a moment, before walking out. She didn't expect him to follow her, matching her strides until she reached for the down button for the elevator. She turned with a sigh, lips parting to ask what he wanted_ now _when he bent his head and his lips brushed hers._

 _She felt the impact of it down to her toes._

"Rise and shine, gorgeous!"

Caroline rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. "Go away."

Enzo laughed at her from the other side of the door and obnoxiously knocked. "Good morning, Caroline. Did you sleep well? Did you sleep?"

Caroline groaned, cracking open one eye to glare at him, dawn just peeking through her curtains. "Enzo, why are you being mean?"

"Mean? This is hardly mean, gorgeous. Mean would be calling to tell Kat you've been pacing the last two nights, and that you're not even getting your usual miniscule amounts of sleep. She'd break the espresso machine and take your stash of instant."

"Oh God, why are you even bringing that up?" Caroline demanded as she sat up and glared at him. She didn't do well with caffeine deprivation and Katherine meant serious business when she cut Caroline off. "We agreed to never bring that up again."

"Uh huh. Here's the deal. I've got coffee and that breakfast casserole you like in the oven. Our options this morning are you tell me what's going on over food or I call Kat."

"Its Saturday and still dark outside," she whined.

"And I have shift in two hours, so it's now or never," Enzo informed her with a smile. "Me or Kat, sweetcheeks."

"I hate you."

"You've got ten minutes till food is done," Enzo said as he shut the door. " _Coffee_ , Caroline."

True to his word, as she staggered into the kitchen wearing sweats and an oversized sweater, glaring at him, Enzo sat a plate in front of her. He was silent as they ate and Caroline was grateful for the reprieve. She usually liked mornings, preferring to get an early start to the day even after her late night hobbies. But this was not one of those mornings, a near sleepless week leaving her irritable.

"Kat told me you've been getting visits from a certain billionaire. And presents. Lots of presents." Enzo said finally, arching one brow. "Flowers, art - fuzzy slippers."

Caroline slouched in her chair. "There weren't _that_ many presents."

"Uh huh," he let the words drawl, not bothering to hide his disbelief. "I know that you've been stressed with what's going on with your second, less legal job, but what's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's complicated," Caroline muttered.

Enzo tapped the table and she looked at him. His smile was wry, amusement clear on his face. "Finding out your best friend is a mutant with a militia past, that's complicated. Emotions, they're just annoying, but a lot simpler than you think."

Caroline fiddled with her fork. "I don't know, Enzo, I'm a mess. I've got trust issues, commitment issues, paranoia…"

"Don't I know it. I was on the receiving end of that unfortunate pepper spray incident," Enzo reminded. "And I'm still here. If he can't handle that, he doesn't deserve you. How much does he know? Have you mentioned your built in camo?"

She hesitated. It wasn't her place to tell Enzo or Kat about Klaus' nighttime hobby but… "He knows I'm a mutant. But I haven't… He gave me tickets to the ballet. I didn't go."

Enzo winced, leaned back. "Did you tell him why?"

She studied the table cloth carefully. Shook her head no. Enzo made a disbelieving noise.

"Look, gorgeous, I'm not going to tell you how you should feel about Klaus Mikaelson of all people, particularly when we both know our illustrious Mayor is up to his eyeballs in crime. Step-dad or no, that's going to be a touch tricky. But it's obvious you feel something, or this wouldn't bother you. You've been pacing at all hours, overworking and skipping past, it doesn't mean you can't be happy _now_."

She glanced up at him. "What, you think Klaus can make me happy?"

"You know how I feel about depending on other people for happiness. Leads to nothing but trouble," Enzo pulled a face. "And whether or not Klaus is someone who's worth the effort and risk of a relationship, that's up to you. But Caroline, you can't expect him to be okay with staying in the dark about things. Not if he's serious about you… is he serious?"

"I should've told him about my hang up with the ballet," she admitted, dodging his last question. "But I just… what if he decides I'm not worth it?"

"Smarter men have done stupider things," Enzo said with a rueful shrug. He glanced at the clock and stood, depositing his plate among the dishes in the sink. "No matter what happens, Kat and I, we're here for you. But gorgeous, life is about risks. Some of them are unfortunately emotional."

Caroline fixed herself a second cup of coffee, and stared at the tile floor. She hated it when Enzo was right. Hated it more, when she'd fucked up. Rubbing her face, she sighed.

Klaus scared her.

Not the vigilante, but _Klaus_. The man who cooked barefoot and went toe to toe with her, and wouldn't let her hide. She'd have been able to brush off that attraction, keep everything as strictly business if he hadn't kissed her.

Her fingers lifted to her lips, pressed lightly. God, he hadn't made any pretenses about wanting her with that kiss. Whatever lies she'd tried to tell herself about their physical attraction they'd burned to ash with the first brush of his mouth. And she'd run.

She owed Klaus an apology; possibly an explanation. Which meant she was going to have to face him on his territory. Again.

 _Dammit_.

* * *

Caroline fidgeted in the elevator. Studying her appearance didn't help, as she'd decided to go casual for this. She was regretting that decision, not because she felt the need to impress him, but because her sneakers gave Klaus a height advantage she wasn't used to.

She was terrified of letting him through her walls, but she was willing to try.

If she hadn't screwed it up.

Smoothing down her thin sweater, Caroline rang the doorbell and chewed on her lower lip. The doorman had assured her that Klaus was home, offering her a knowing smile. She ignored that, because she couldn't think about what it meant that he was still in town instead of retreating to his manor. She wasn't silly enough to think it had to do with her, but she hadn't seen anything to suggest vigilante movements either.

The door finally opened and she froze at the sight of Klaus. He was wearing those damn jeans, but this Henley was faded, splattered with paint. The same shades of golds that were on his knuckles and streaked across one cheekbone.

"You paint?"

The words were blurted between them, and she nearly flinched at the sound of her own voice. His irritation and surprise flickered into something like confusion before Klaus' face smoothed out. When he spoke, his voice showed none of his surprise, just a polite coolness.

"Caroline. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She probably deserved the clipped tones, so she let them go. Instead she held up the ticket she'd brought with her. His gaze flickered over, eyes dark when he returned to her face. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Klaus pressed his shoulder against the door jamb, stared at her with hard eyes. "I'd have thought your avoidance was enough of a discussion."

"My dad liked ballet," she told him bluntly. "He enrolled me in classes almost as soon as I could walk. Thought it'd teach me discipline, and keep me from being a klutz."

Confusion crinkled his forehead. "I don't follow. What does this have to do with me?"

Caroline swallowed, stomach muscles tightening to steady her. "When I was fifteen I killed him."

His eyes went flat, jaw tensing. She tried not to let her chin wobble, and breathed deeply to find her center and shrugged one shoulder. "I haven't really managed to dance or watch a show since, and I…"

Her words died as he straightened. The sudden intensity of his eyes, the sharpness of his cheekbones had her words trailing off. "Christ, Caroline. What happened?"

"He tried to kill me," she whispered. "So I killed him first."

Klaus closed his eyes and then stepped to the side. "I think we're going to need some privacy for this discussion, sweetheart. And whiskey."

Hesitantly, she stepped inside. During the day, the apartment was filled with sunshine and just as oddly inviting. It smelled like him, and had the faintest hint of the paint he wore on his skin. She toed off her shoes and watched as Klaus walked to the bar, pouring an amber liquid into two tumblers. He motioned her into the area with the couches.

"What happened?"

She accepted the whiskey and took a tentative sip. It burned, but it was bracing. Licking her lips, she glanced out the windows. She'd decided on her way over, that she owed him answers. She wasn't certain that she was capable of giving Klaus what he wanted emotionally, but she could give him her truths.

Klaus was right, that secrets wouldn't help them now. She'd could've kept most of it to herself, but Enzo had been right too, as much as it galled her. She did feel something for Klaus and avoiding it hadn't done her any good. It was time to try a different approach.

"My dad was part of the anti-mutant movements," Caroline told the skyline. She'd only ever told Enzo and Kat this story, and she'd been very drunk. "My mutation manifested early, well before puberty; I think we were playing hide and seek. Dad kept it from my mom. It took about a year, but he finagled a divorce and sole custody."

"How?"

She shook her head, tried not to think about the careful neutrality of his tone. "Mom didn't know. I don't either. What I do know is that he'd decided that my particular mutation was useful. I make a perfect assassin."

"Caroline," Klaus bit her name out, as his tumbler hit the table.

She couldn't manage to look at him. "I grew up in militia camps. He kept what I was very quiet, made sure I didn't talk about it. I had tutors and rarely interacted with other children, and it wasn't until I was a little older that I understood what was going on. I found out about the mutants. Saw what they were doing to their bodies and.."

Her voice cracked, and she took another hasty sip.

" _Caroline_."

Klaus' voice was low and rough, and she finally glanced at him. There was no pity, but anger stained his cheekbones red. His gaze burned against her skin, but there was no condemnation. She tightened her grip on her glass.

"Ballet?"

"Sometimes I get flashbacks."

His jaw tightened. "The art warehouse?"

She startled, not realizing she'd made such an impression that night. "Bill - my dad - used to use art to hide their dealings. Sometimes bodies. I haven't linked Bill to Mikael yet, but.."

His eyes studied her. "You think there's a connection."

"Yes."

His eyes slid shut, and she watched him reign himself in. Klaus ran his hands through his hair and he took a deep breath. Took half a step closer to her before catching himself. "Mikael has had ties to the anti-mutant groups in the past. He had Kol tested, numerous times, to see if his love of computers was a gift."

Caroline blinked at him, licking her lips. "Gift?"

Klaus' eyes were serious as he held hers. "Gift. Kol is outrageously normal, if you consider his brain to be normal; would having an affinity for computers to be a mutation have made that brilliance less? Mikael distanced himself from some of his more flamboyant cronies when he ran for mayor. Your experiences sound more like a black market."

"I haven't been able to find enough pieces to track it," Caroline admitted. She set her glass down and sighed, glancing back out the windows. "I know they are still out there, _hunting_. But I can't find them."

"Why push me out?"

She glanced at him warily and his lips quirked.

"Regardless of my pursuit of you, Caroline, it's hardly a secret between us that I want to take Mikael down. Why not leverage that?"

"Because I _won't_ use you in that way," she said firmly. "God knows that discussing my past isn't something I enjoy, and I think it's pretty clear how far I go to avoid it. But using people because I'm a coward?"

He took three steps, planted his hands on either side of her and glared down at her. "Coward? The girl who tackled and cuffed me to a drain pipe, the woman who brushed off being shot, and who hunts through heavily defended labs and warehouses despite men being very willing to kill her?"

Caroline chewed on her lip, glanced away before flicking her gaze back to his. His eyes were dark with things she couldn't read, gaze intent. Swallowing, she shrugged. "That was just me, though; I was the only one at risk. And I am a coward, emotionally. I'm sorry, that I hurt you."

His fingers pushed a wisp of hair away from her cheek. "I survived."

"So," she said hesitantly, tongue snaking nervously across her lips. It was hard, not to fidget, when his gaze never wavered. "Do you… maybe want to grab lunch? There's a diner…"

Those careful fingertips moved to cup her jaw, and something hot turned his gaze vibrant. For a moment, he just looked at her, before the edges of his lips curling, just hinting at his dimples. "Just to be clear, Caroline, you're asking me out. On a date."

"Yes," she affirmed, letting her gaze narrow slightly in challenge. "Of course, this is dependent on your preference for fries vs onion rings."

"Is that so?"

"Yup," she said loftily, even as her eyes watched him warily. "Yes or no?"

"Give me a few minutes to clean up, sweetheart, and we'll go wherever you want." Klaus stepped back, hands sliding to his pockets, head tilting as he studied her. "I'm not going to be so easily pushed aside after this, Caroline."

"You call the last few weeks _easy_?"

He smiled and turned, sauntering in the direction of the bedrooms. "As long as you understand."

Caroline hoped she understood. Because this might blow up in her face, but if this last week had taught her anything it was that she missed him. For the first time in her life, she had a chance with someone who she didn't have to shield from her past.

If she could just stay out of her own way.

* * *

 ** _Please Comment_**


	5. Chapter 5

My sincere apologies about the wait! Hopefully the next chapter will not take my muse so long to get its act together. I apologize for any mistakes, as this chapter isn't really beta-read. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Caroline [3:55 PM]** : I'm so sorry, but something has come up. Can we reschedule?

Klaus stared at his phone with narrowed eyes as he considered Caroline's apologetic text. He'd discovered the her message after he'd washed up in preparation for their date. He'd spent a few hours that afternoon, attempting to capture her smile on canvas.

So far, his attempts at painting Caroline had been dismal. His preferred medium had always been landscapes, but lately, his sketchbooks had been filled with only Caroline. If he hadn't already acknowledged the complicated emotions where she was concerned, he'd have been frustrated by his inability to concentrate. Sleep had always been elusive, but the driving obsession to destroy Mikael was no longer the only goal that occupied his thoughts.

He'd been looking forward to tonight, had agreed to continue their low key outings for as long as was possible. Klaus didn't share well, and there was not an insignificant appeal to having Caroline Forbes all to himself in a dark booth. An evening spent over good food and wine, coaxing her into dropping her formidable shields, would be a pleasure.

When Caroline had come to him, had explained a small part of her last was a step Klaus hadn't been certain she'd take. That she'd immediately followed their conversation by asking him out had been a delightful bit of progress he'd have waited months for. For all that he refused to allow her to hide behind her shields he was determined that she would deal with him as Caroline, Klaus needed her to be sure.

Caroline was the first non-family member who knew of his double identity, the only woman who could match him in both areas of his life. But he also knew that between the lifestyles he led, his vigilante work was perhaps the less complicated of the two. His past was complicated and messy, as was hers. But Klaus was determined that neither of theirs past would interfere with what he thought they could build.

He'd enjoyed teasing her the past few days, dangling hints about their date over text and the occasional phone call. He enjoyed her quick wit, picturing the snap behind her eyes when she was riled. Caroline did not particularly enjoy surprises, and it was another tiny piece of the puzzle he was enjoying watching unfold.

He'd had every intention of making his teasing up to her. While Caroline was setting the pace of their relationship, that didn't mean he couldn't play what she allowed him to his advantage. And for all her blustering, the chemistry between them was electric. There was no denying he wanted her in his bed, but he desired all of her.

Tapping the edge of his screen, Klaus set about cancelling his dinner reservations. Once done, Klaus quickly changed into a slightly more casual outfit. Caroline had looked at him with badly veiled appreciation on those occasions she'd seen him in a suit, but it had been the heat in her eyes when she'd found him barefoot and rumpled in his home that he wished to remind her of tonight.

He supposed someone more gentlemanly would leave her be, but he wasn't certain that wouldn't be a mistake. While Klaus was certain she'd let him know if she'd stumbled upon a sliver of information regarding Mikael, he doubted that she'd think to ask for help about a mutant issue. And if that was the case, the sooner he nipped her uncertainty in the bud, the better.

Kol had her permission to start digging through what trials he could find on the web and the documents she'd stolen from the art warehouse. So far, they hadn't managed to dig up an overt link between Mikael and William Forbes, but if it existed, Kol would find it. It was just a matter of time before Mikael's empire started to crumble.

He was adjusting his watch when Rebekah strode unexpectedly into his room her mouth drawn tight. Klaus frowned in her direction, double checking his phone to confirm he hadn't missed a text announcing her arrival. His sister was the only other family member cleared to his apartment without warning other than Kol.

"And to what do I owe this visit?"

Rebekah dramatically threw herself onto one of the chairs near the fireplace, face set in a scowl. "I want wine, and food."

"You're welcome to both, but I'm afraid you'll have to enjoy them alone."

Klaus took one more quick glance at his appearance, before turning to face his surprised sister. Out of all his siblings, it had taken Rebekah the longest to forgive his supposed betrayal by moving in with his biological father as a teenager. Her childish anger had carried for years, and it hadn't been until he'd taken in Kol that she'd shown up at his apartment. Drunk and slurring, she'd railed at him even as he'd tucked her into his guest room. The next day she'd tried to slip out without him noticing, but Rebekah had the subtly of a drunken elephant, and he'd been prepared for such a move.

She'd broken two of his lamps throwing them at his head during the argument that had followed her interrupted escape attempt, but somehow they'd managed to lance the wounds between them, despite themselves. In the years that followed, they'd found a new normal, and Klaus had grown incredible fond, if occasionally exasperated by, the woman his sister had become.

"I checked your diary," Rebekah complained, sitting up. "You don't have any business engagements tonight. Particularly if you're dressed like that."

Klaus ignored the barb. "Should I list all my social activities for you?"

"What's the point of having a personal assistant if she isn't useful?" Rebekah fired back.

Klaus rolled his eyes and headed for the living area. "As you well know, my non-business engagements are no ones business. It allows me a certain amount of eccentricity."

She followed him out of his bedroom, her sound of derision loud. "Please tell me that you're not ignoring me for one of those bimbos you insist on dating?"

Klaus perused the bottles of red he kept on hand at his apartment, knowing that if he didn't pick one for her, Rebekah would open what she thought was the most expensive out of spite. "I won't, then. Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you're here?"

He glanced over after he'd removed the cork from a lovely table red, catching the faint splash of pink across her cheeks before Rebekah ducked. Brows arching, he set an empty glass and the bottle in front of her. "Rebekah?"

"A girl just can't just visit her brother?" She brazened, fingers flattening on the counter.

Klaus snorted. "If you're going to avoid the real reason you're here, I really do have places to be."

Her eyes narrowed as ire darkened her gaze. "I was stood up."

He blinked, and poured her a glass, ignoring that the wine needed another fifteen minutes to breathe properly. "Poor bloke."

Rebekah's spine stiffened in a way that looked painful. "Poor him?"

"Of course," Klaus said, unperturbed by her tone. "You're hardly the forgiving sort. I'd imagine the next time you see him, he'll have cause to regret his choices."

She opened her mouth and closed it, body language shifting to something close to sulking. "He had a family emergency."

Brow arching, he fought down an amused smile. "Did he? Are you sure?"

Quite certain that Rebekah was torn between stomping her foot and growling, he waited her out as she took a long drink from her glass. When she finally spoke, her words were bitten off, gaze daring him to say something. "It wasn't our first date. He knows better."

Realizing that Rebekah had just admitted to having someone in her life that had survived her harrowing first date criteria, and possible more, Klaus regretfully looked at his watch. As much fun as it would be to tease his baby sister, Caroline should be well on her way home for the day, even if a project or two had held her up. He'd discovered she was a stickler for mostly setting a good example for her staff, even if it meant logging in at home.

"Well," Klaus said, letting a hint of that regret color his voice. Rebekah glanced sharply at him, and he motioned to the wine. "I'm afraid I really do have plans, Bekah. Stay, drink my wine. Order whatever you want. My treat, of course."

Lips curling into a pout, she topped off her glass. "If I'd wanted to eat by myself, I could've just gone home."

"And miss the opportunity to pilfer my wine collection when I'm not around to supervise?" Klaus shook his head as he collected his shoes, wallet and keys. "I've been told that stolen booze simply tastes better."

"It's not stolen if you give permission."

Smiling at her irritable words, Klaus leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You know which bedroom is yours."

"And risk running into your morning-after trash?" Rebekah wrinkled her nose. "No thank you."

Rolling his eyes, Klaus decided not to respond to that particular comment. Fingers jiggling his keys, he considered his plan. The possibility that whatever had come up could involve her roommate, and the biting Katerina, was something he needed to consider. As was the fact that Caroline held them in absolute trust.

He made a mental note to pick up a few dishes that could cater to a number of food preferences. Possibly a dessert, for that sweet tooth Caroline pretended she didn't have. If he was going to invade her evening, a bribe might not be remiss.

* * *

"One of these days, someone is going to turn you into a pinata," Katerina said scathingly as she paced. "Then were will we be?"

Caroline considered taking another shot of the good whiskey as Enzo tied off the another stitch, vaguely wondering how many he'd set. She hadn't been counting. Katerina had tried to force her to drink what might have passed as lighter fluid in a past life, but Enzo had overruled her.

"If I'm going to spend my evening off putting in stitches, then I want her to survive the process, Kat. Sheath your claws."

Katerina had planted both hands on her hips and glared. "I'm getting real sick of you rocking this particular bingo card, Caroline."

She'd winced as Enzo started stitching, the tug of skin nauseating. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Katerina had whirled around and stomped through their living room while Enzo worked, muttering what sounded like a strange mix of Bulgarian and Russian. Caroline had taken the mental reprieve and carefully sipped whiskey, hoping to numb the fire crawling up her side. Enzo had worked fast, brows tucked tightly together.

Klaus hadn't texted her back.

She'd hoped to see a missed call from him, once Katherine had gotten her into her apartment. But her phone had lacked any reply, and if her fingers and nose hadn't been numb, she'd have worried about that. Closing her eyes, she promised herself she'd try to reach him later.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"Dunno," Caroline said carefully. "Kat and I were in the parking lot. You remember Matt?"

Enzo made a low noise of agreement. Caroline opened slightly hazy eyes, and watched as he started cleaning up. His movements were careful and practiced, but the skin around his mouth was pulled tight.

"Matt Donovan? He was the friend of the quarterback you used to make eyes at when you didn't think anyone was looking."

Caroline rolled her eyes, and then winced, as the room shivered. "His name was Tyler. Tyler Lockwood."

"Whatever happened to him?"

She swallowed, as Katerina stomped back into the room. "He disappeared. Peru, five years ago."

Enzo glanced at her, the crease between his brows darkening. "Mutant?"

"I was never sure," Caroline said wearily. "His Uncle was the judge in my custody hearings. Mason was friends with Bill, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."

Kat frowned. "But what reason would Matt have to attack you like that?"

"Matt Donovan did this?" Enzo gaze darted between them. "Is he still alive?"

"Did you somehow imagine that I'd have left behind something so glaring as a body to be found?" Katerina demanded, glaring.

Before Enzo could say anything else, a loud knock sounded on the front door. They froze, staring as it sounded again. Enzo glanced over at the kitchen table, and the bloody remains of his work and then glanced at Kat. Caroline swallowed as her friend slipped out of her heels and tiptoed to the front door, ignoring another series of knocks. When she turned back to Caroline, her eyes were a little wide as she mouthed a name.

 _Klaus Mikaelson._

Caroline swallowed hard as her phone took that moment to buzz. Wincing, she held up one finger and blinked to bring her text into focus

 **Klaus [7:15 PM]** : I know you're home, sweetheart. Going to let me in?

Cursing, her fingers fumbled on the touch screen.

 **Caroline [7:15 PM]** : I texted you to reschedule.

 **Klaus [7:16 PM]** : I know. I brought food. And cake.

She glared at her phone, fingers tightening. At least she'd texted to reschedule before she'd been attacked. She was pretty sure that not being upfront about being knifed when cancelling a date was grounds to end whatever this was and she knew she didn't want that.

If this had been any other night, she'd have let him. Making a low noise of aggravation, she glanced up to find Enzo watching her with interest and Katerina staring at her in open suspicion. Caroline winced, because she hadn't really told either of them about Klaus, other than what Enzo had guessed. About the dating. Or the vigilante thing. The first, because it was too new. The other, because it wasn't her secret. Wincing at another polite, but substantial knock, she typed as quickly as she could manage. Another text came through before she finished, and she winced.

 **Klaus [7:19 PM]** : Are you alright?

 **Caroline [7:19 PM]** : You can't come in.

 **Klaus [7:19 PM]** : Why is that?

 **Caroline [7:20 PM]** : Kat and Enzo are here. There was an incident.

 **Caroline [7:20 PM]** : I trust them, but you don't. I'll call you later? Maybe you can come over for breakfast?

She held her breath, expecting him to leave. Klaus was insanely private. And he was even more so regarding his secondary lifestyle. She doubted he'd risk letting them in on his secret just to check up on her.

Her phone beeped.

 **Klaus [7:24 PM]** : I brought enough food for four. It's getting cold. Open the door, sweetheart.

"Shit," she breathed, as her gaze darted to Kat. The last of her buzz disappeared, and she swallowed hard. Kat tapped her bare foot, gaze darkening into something that promised violence, and Caroline licked suddenly dry lips.

"Let him in."

"Are you sure, Gorgeous?" Enzo said slowly, gaze pointedly dragging over the bloody bandages he hadn't dumped into a biohazard bag for disposal.

"I'm sure."

"Well," he said. "That does make it interesting. Kat?"

"You didn't spill your secrets to the first man you've banged since college, did you?" Katerina demanded as she moved to yank open the door. Caroline made a low noise of horror, and Klaus simply stood there with both brows raised in a mixture of amusement and calculation.

"Katerina."

Kat scowled, and after a moment she angled to let him. "Mikaelson. You're pretty, but I don't know why she'd have a use for you outside of sex."

Something dangerous curled his lips in an unfair use of dimples. "Ah, but that'd be between Caroline and I."

His gaze moved across the room and took her in, eyes turning diamond hard. His gaze lingered on the bloody remains of her shirt before shifting to her torso, the neat row of stitches that curved along her abdomen. Three long strides later, and Klaus set the bags on the coffee table and strode towards her. He ignored the interested way Enzo watched him, the open hostility from Kat. His thumb brushed a few inches below the cut, and his voice was a rumble of sound when he spoke.

"This is your idea of something coming up?"

Caroline caught Kat's head snapping up from where she was perusing the food Klaus had brought. She ignored her friend's narrowed expression, and shook her head. "No. I really did have something else come up. Kat and I were on our way when…"

She gestured towards her abdomen. His thumb stroked her skin again, mouth tightening in a way she was realizing meant double. "How many?"

Caroline saw the real question in his eyes, and gave a minute shake of her head. "I don't count. It's weird enough feeling Enzo close the wound. I draw the line at counting."

"Twenty-five," Enzo said as he finished bundling things into a bag marked biohazard. "Not the worst she's had, but I'll be delighted when this is no longer a concern."

"It was a graze," she said lowly.

Another glint behind Klaus' eyes, as his hand fell away from her skin. But he didn't push her on the number of assailants.

"I take it you didn't go to the police with this, since your roommate is stitching you?" Klaus asked in a tone that was part silk and mostly dangerous. She set her teeth in frustration as he easily tracked the faint line of goosebumps that ran across her skin as he spoke, intrigue momentarily flashing in his eyes.

"Interesting," Kat said from the living room, voice nearly pleasant. "That you think you should know the answer to that question."

"As entertaining as this conversation is," Enzo interrupted. "Gorgeous needs to eat, and personally, I'm starving. Kitty Kat, why don't you find us some plates and I'll finish cleaning the table."

Kat crossed her arms, tone belligerent. "Why should I find plates?"

"Because Care can't, and the boyfriend here brought the food."

Jaw set, she finally moved to do as Enzo asked, and Caroline took a slow breath. Klaus gave a good impression of ignoring the byplay around him, but the muscles at his jaw tensed every time Enzo called her Gorgeous. She reached up to encircle his wrist with her fingers, making sure she had his full attention, and she kept her voice low.

"I don't want to lie to them."

Klaus reached up with his free hand to stroke back a sweaty curl, eyes dark. "Then don't."

She licked her lips. Opened her mouth and shut it, as Kat returned. Klaus untangled his wrist, his thumb a brief caress against her pulse point. Enzo walked in and handed her one of his button up shirts, and she pulled it on gratefully.

"You might be a billionaire," Kat said. "But that doesn't mean you get free pass."

Klaus tilted his head in acknowledgement, but otherwise seemed unconcerned by her hostility. Instead, he went and collected the take out bags. Enzo caught her eye as Klaus turned his his back and she shrugged helplessly.

She wasn't entirely sure what was going on either. But she knew that she couldn't ask Klaus to trust them with his past. And that meant they had to deal with it now, before the speculation in their eyes turned to realizations. "I told him, Kat, because he sent me ballet tickets."

Forkes ended up scattered across the table as Katerina swore. Enzo rescued the plates from where they'd been precariously perched, and helped Klaus start to unpack food. "Cheer up, Kat. There was moping. And guilt. I felt like I was back in High School."

Caroline scowled, a faint blush heating her cheeks at Klaus sudden amusement. "It wasn't like that."

Katerina pointed one red nail at her, eyes narrowed. "You could have simply told him you'd had a rocky childhood, and that ballet brought up bad memories."

"No," she said simply.

Katerina dropped into her chair, muttering darkly under her breath. Enzo just looked amused, as he passed Caroline a container of miso soup and her sushi rolls. "Relax, Kat. Accidents happen all the time, and sometimes saving a limb comes down to the surgeon."

Caroline sighed at the threat Enzo hadn't bothered to hide.

"I'll keep that in mind," Klaus replied without much visible concern. "Now, what happened, Caroline?"

She took a slow sip of her broth, testing her stomach. "I was just telling these two, I don't know. I haven't seen Matt Donovan in years."

Klaus narrowed his gaze. "He's from Mystic Falls?"

"For a backwater town," Kat said irritably. "It sure does end up spitting out a number of crazies."

Caroline grimaced, but agreed. "As far as I know, it's not well known that I'm a mutant. Hell, the last time I chatted with Bonnie, Matt was running for Sheriff."

"I didn't know you two kept in touch?" Enzo said with some surprise.

"We don't, not really. I use to try to check in every few years, see how she'd been doing." Caroline shrugged, and then winced at the pull on her abdomen. "Her Grams died last year. I reached out then."

"So clearly something changed," Klaus said slowly. His gaze slid over, caught Caroline's eyes. "I have a few contacts that may be able to dig something up."

Kol. Caroline chewed on her lip, considered the offer. As much as she hated it, it would be best if she let someone else dig through whatever was going on in Mystic Falls. She'd burned several bridges after her mother's death, and there was no way she could ask around gracefully. Before she could give him an answer, Kat leaned forward, gaze hard.

"Why should we trust you?"

Klaus arched a brow. "You shouldn't. But Caroline does."

Caroline jumped in before Katerina could articulate whatever was burning behind her eyes. "Stop antagonizing him, Kat. And behave, Klaus."

Klaus looked at her, brow arched. "Do you not trust me?"

She glared at him, fully aware of what he was doing. "I do, but that doesn't mean you get to be an ass about it."

One long fingered hand settled on her thigh, and Caroline turned to look at him. There was something utterly satisfied in his expression, and her breath hitched as the heat of his touch warmed her leg. He ignored her insult. "Which is why you should come home with me."

She spluttered. "What? No!"

Unperturbed, Klaus held her gaze steadily. "No? You'll need a few days to let your wound heal. And this time, _you_ were attacked as Caroline. Until we know why you were targeted, there is no shame in lying low."

Caroline narrowed her eyes. Klaus smiled at her grumpy face, and his fingers stroked her thigh. "I also have better security. If someone has a grudge to pick with you, perhaps involving your roommate and friends isn't the wisest course of action? A doorman is bribable, love."

"And if I were a conspiracy theorist," Enzo drawled. "I'd point out your familial connection to our illustrious Mayor."

Klaus turned and shook his head. "Mikael is a blight. One that needs to be removed."

Whatever Enzo read on Klaus' face, he nodded. "It might not be a bad idea, Gorgeous."

"Enzo!" Caroline gasped.

Even Kat looked thoughtful, watching Klaus with calculating eyes. Finally she plucked Enzo's last spicy tuna roll from his plate. "Unfortunately, Mikaelson isn't wrong."

"Whose friends are you?"

"Yours," Kat said once she'd finished the roll. "Which is why I'm telling you to spend a long weekend shacked up with your billionaire boyfriend."

Caroline picked up her miso, glaring at Kat's smug face. To her relief, Klaus didn't push for an answer, taking his cue from her. He concentrated on his own food, giving Caroline time to think while occasionally interrupting the conversation between Enzo and Kat with a dry rejoinder.

His hand never left her thigh.

CAirline was forced to admit she wasn't completely against his idea. The knife wound wasn't her only injury, but the bruises would fade. It had been a shock, to see Matt, followed by the bright flash of a knife. The sudden burning that she'd reacted to before she'd quite realized what it had meant. Kat's scream would join the cacophony of her already loud nightmares, and a few days to process and think wouldn't be a bad thing. As long as she could take her laptop and do some work remotely, she wouldn't fall behind. It was just…

Picking up a roll, she glanced at Klaus from underneath her lashes.

So far, they'd manage to keep things slow by staying quietly public. Caroline wasn't entirely sure her self control could handle three days of Klaus. In his space. The intimacy of early mornings and late evenings. Her past was a minefield, and she'd given Klaus a peak, and he hadn't gone running. She'd hoped to spend a little more time getting a feel for how he felt about her crazy. But perhaps this would be better. A crash course, in seeing if they could actually manage whatever this was between them.

"Fine," she said lowly, as she finished her dinner. "Three days."

Klaus turned to watch her, eyes narrowed. "Until Monday."

She hissed. "Its Tuesday."

His brows arched. "You'll a minimum of three days, if I remember your healing abilities correctly. And I'm not certain how long it will take for my contact to dig up additional information. Best we have a solid plan in place before you leave. Give me until Monday to find out what I can."

Caroline pointed her chopsticks at him. "If we figure out a plan earlier, I'm coming home."

Klaus' mouth curled upwards, dimples just creasing his cheeks. "If that is your wish. When shall I have the car brought around?"

"Kat needs to help me pack a bag," she grudgingly allowed. "But I'm eating cake first. The cake had better not have been a lie."

A hint of laughter, as he gathered reached over and settled a closed container in front of her. "As if I'd dare."


End file.
